


A Matter of Names

by Mintoki



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Child Neglect, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake is Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 15:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintoki/pseuds/Mintoki
Summary: "He notices how Timothy tenses whenever he calls his name, as if he’s bracing himself for something to come. Alfred knows that the boy probably isn’t even aware he’s doing it but he’s determined to get to the bottom of it."





	A Matter of Names

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't think I'd be writing another fic so fast but what can I say, I love writing about Tim 
> 
> So uh I'm not 100% sure where I would place this in terms of canon, but it's after Tim has become Robin but not super far into his run
> 
> I really love the way that Alfred looks after the Batfam and just how he's such a supportive person for anybody who needs it so I decided to write a bit about him and Tim. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Alfred finds pride in his ability to manage the manor. While his impeccable intuition and timing could be deemed superhuman, he doesn’t lay claim to any metahuman abilities. He just has a natural aptitude for reading others along with lots of experience. Raising the reserved Bruce Wayne called for learning and reading body language more often than relying on verbal communication, after all. 

Sure, there have been times where Alfred might not know what’s running through one of his masters’ heads, but usually it’s a one-off instance. Otherwise, the butler is able to gather his own evidence through their actions. This technique has worked for almost all of his tenure at Wayne manor. Whether it be Dick Grayson lacking the usual bounce in his step, Jason Todd when he would set his book down a bit too forcefully, or even Bruce furrowing his eyebrows slightly more than usual, Alfred could almost always conclude what had caused the action. 

With Timothy Drake though, it was different.

Out of the four thirteen year olds Alfred had seen spend extended time in the manor, Timothy was definitely the most well behaved of the bunch. Alfred couldn’t quite discern whether it was due to his upbringing in the higher echelons of society or the fact he was technically a guest in the house. Most likely it was some combination of both.

That fact slightly bothered him. While Timothy spent time at the Wayne manor it was almost exclusively spent in the Batcave working on a case or training. On the rare occasion the boy stayed the night, he would leave fairly soon after breakfast, never wanting to “overstay his welcome”. As if he could ever make the butler feel that way. Consequently though, Alfred couldn’t quite get a base read on Timothy’s behavioral patterns and habits. 

There is one peculiar thing about the young man though. He notices how Timothy tenses whenever he calls his name, as if he’s bracing himself for something to come. Alfred knows that the boy probably isn’t even aware he’s doing it but Alfred is determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Master Timothy, how nice of you to join us this evening.” Alfred catches Timothy off guard. The boy, while not necessarily sneaking, probably wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to him as he made his way through the halls. 

“Ah, Mr. Pennyworth! I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” And there was that ever-present politeness. 

“My dear boy, I’m certainly no stranger to late nights. I wait up every evening to ensure that you and Master Bruce return home safely.”

“Well we’re back and not too injured since there weren’t any major villains out. Just standard muggings and robberies.” As he says this, Alfred can’t help but notice how Timothy unconsciously shifts his weight to his left. He isn’t putting any pressure on his right foot and Alfred has seen this type of injury too many times to count. 

“Not too injured, but I can’t help but notice your ankle isn’t quite up to snuff.” Timothy stiffens for a second at the observation. “Perhaps it requires further examination?”

“It’s really not a big deal…” Alfred stops that line of protest with one, incredulous look. “But if you wouldn’t mind taking a look I would appreciate it.”

The pair make their way to the front room and the boy sets himself on the couch. Despite the undoubtedly draining night he’s had, his back remains straight and his hands are politely clasped in front of him. Alfred props Timothy’s foot on the coffee table, making a mental note to make sure he cleans it the next day.

Within a couple of minutes, the ankle is wrapped. It truly isn’t as bad as it could be, but a sprained ankle is a sprained ankle. There is no way that Alfred could leave it untreated in good conscious.

“Thank you for all your help tonight, Mr. Pennyworth. I should probably get going now though.”

“If you think I am going to let you ride your bike back home while you are injured, you are sorely mistaken.” Alfred doesn’t add that even on nights where Timothy isn’t injured, the prospect of him out of costume and by himself after dark makes him anxious. “Why don’t you make your way to the car and I will load your bike into the trunk for you.”

“Really, I’ll be okay.”

“I wasn’t making a request, Master Timothy.” That shuts Timothy up and then he immediately apologizes. Alfred quirks an eyebrow at this, but doesn’t comment. Timothy has always been too polite for his own good. 

The car ride is only about ten minutes, and both passengers are quiet throughout it all. The exhaustion seems to be hitting Timothy now. Even though he isn’t sleeping, he just seems too tired to talk and Alfred will respect that. After Timothy inputs the access code for the outside gate, Alfred drives him all the way up to his front door.

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“I would be happy to do it anytime.” Alfred punctuates his offer with a smile. “I will be by tomorrow at four to pick you up if that is alright with you?”

“You’re going to let me out on patrol when my ankle is like this?” Despite his best attempts, Timothy can’t help but let some disbelief seep into his voice.

“Now who said anything about patrol? I just think it might be nice of you to grace the manor with your presence outside the Robin suit.” Timothy bites his lip, but gives a small nod. “I will see you tomorrow then.”

The boy enters his house and Alfred is a bit surprised at how noisy he is about the whole ordeal. He certainly wasn’t worried about his parents hearing him despite the late hour. Did they really not care about what their son had been doing at one in the morning?

The answer dawns on Alfred: perhaps they didn’t care because they weren’t around to. It was no secret that Jack and Janet Drake enjoyed traveling around the world, but certainly they wouldn’t leave their son home by himself. He might be mature for his age, but Timothy was not ready to be his own sole caretaker.

This realization makes Alfred glad that he invited the boy over tomorrow. Perhaps he will be able to convince him to bring an overnight bag with him as well.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Alfred arrives promptly at four and rings the Drake manor’s doorbell. Timothy answers it himself, further confirming Alfred’s suspicions that he is living here alone. No self-respecting maid or butler would allow for a master of the house to get the door themselves.

“Good afternoon, Master Timothy. Since tomorrow is Saturday I thought it might be agreeable for you to stay over at Wayne manor this evening, that is, as long as your parents won’t mind.”

“Oh, um, yeah. I’m sure my parents will be fine with it. I just need some time to pack…”

“Take all the time you need.”

Within five minutes Timothy has come back outside with a small, leather case in hand. Alfred promptly takes it from him and escorts him to the car. Before long, they’re on their way to the manor.

“How is your ankle feeling today, Master Timothy?” Alfred starts, attempting to create conversation.

“It’s doing a lot better, thank you for asking Mr. Pennyworth.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me ‘Mr. Pennyworth’. I feel that since we are in such close communication a simple ‘Alfred’ is more than sufficient.” The butler lets out a chuckle. “Though, if you wish to follow in the path of Master Dick, ‘Agent A’ would also be acceptable.”

“I really couldn’t, Mr. Pennyworth.” Timothy protests.

“Nonsense, it’s quite alright. Besides, the ‘Mr.’ makes me feel a bit old if I do say so myself.”

“If you insist, Alfred…” He can tell that Timothy isn’t 100% comfortable with calling him that yet, but hopefully he’ll warm up to it over time.

“While we are on the topic of names, I must ask it there is there anything that you would prefer to be called?” He hadn’t asked when the boy had first been introduced to the Wayne family since circumstances had been a bit odd, but Alfred figures now is as good a time as any to ask. It might help to ease some of the tension that seems to follow the boy around.

“What do you mean?” Timothy tone is cautious, as if he’s trying to figure out where this conversation is going.

“I can’t help but notice that you do not particularly care for being called ‘Master Timothy’.” 

“Oh.” 

That one word hurts Alfred more than he probably would like to admit. The boy’s tone is simultaneously filled with distress and shock, a combination he doesn’t want to hear again. It suggests that not only is he upset about being found out, but probably didn’t think anyone was paying that close attention to him to catch him either.

“It’s just that nobody ever really calls me ‘Timothy’ except my parents,” The thirteen year old starts. He swallows and turns his face to look out the car window, not allowing Alfred to see his facial expression. “And only then it’s when I’m in trouble.”

“You mean to say they only call you by your full name when scolding you?”

“They only talk to me when they’re scolding me.”

Alfred’s blood runs cold. He already suspected that the Drakes weren’t the best parents from previous information, but this is too much. To only interact with your child to punish them, that was too much.

The revelation makes Alfred want to ask Bruce if he’d be willing to adopt yet another child.

But he knows that's impossible at the moment. Ignoring the fact that the Drakes are very much alive with parental custody over the boy, Bruce is in no way ready to take on another child. Even taking on another Robin with a strictly business relationship was a feat in and of itself. Sure, Bruce has warmed up to the Drake boy in his own way, but he is not ready to father another son.

Alfred wants to ask the boy to clarify his statement, but doesn’t know how he would be received. He’s surprised he’s gotten this much personal information out of him already; he had never really talked about his home life before and he doesn’t want to scare him off. Instead he opts for a different approach.

“What would you like me to call you then?” Alfred hopes that his sincerity comes across in his voice. 

“I like Tim.” He says this just as they pull into the driveway of the manor.

“Welcome to Wayne manor then, Master Tim.” And for once, Tim seems relaxed at the sound of his own name.


End file.
